


6 Seconds to Love

by shiniestqueen (sparrowinsky)



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: 5+1, Awkward Crush, Badass Kate Bishop, F/F, Pining, Snarky Darcy Lewis, this story floats untethered in the canon of Marvel it's not set any particular time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:18:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8917045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowinsky/pseuds/shiniestqueen
Summary: Five times Darcy Lewis didn't kiss Kate Bishop, and one time she did.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For [@bagofgroceries](http://www.bagofgroceries.tumblr.com) for the Darcyland Secret Santa

  **.1.**

For all his jackbooted thuggery in New Mexico, Darcy actually likes Clint. He’s snarky. He’s funny. In short, he speaks her language. It’s not surprising then that she ends up at his apartment three weeks after moving Jane and her attendant machinery into Stark’s ridiculous tower. What is surprising is that they end up watching shitty movies on his couch. Surprising… but not unwelcome. Sure, Clint’s hot, Darcy could go for him, maybe, probably-- but-- it doesn't feel right.

She’s still thinking about it, halfway through some shaky-cam action flick. It’s been a long while since she got laid, he’s cute, his arms are-- well--

That’s when his roommate comes home, and Darcy is just-- lost.

“Katemeetdarcy,” Clint mumbles with a mouth full of microwave popcorn, and Darcy waves meekly-- meekly! Her!-- as she pulls her knees to her chest to make room for the girl.

“I like your hat,” Kate offers with a smirk, snatching the popcorn bowl from Clint’s hands. _I like your face can I kiss it_ , Darcy does not say, because she is sometimes almost a normal person.

She’s uncharacteristically silent the rest of the movie, listening to Kate and Clint snarking about the villain. Kate’s funny. Funnier than Clint. And pretty. And--

\--when she stumbles out the door at 4am, down the stairs, and into an Uber, _attraction_ has Quicksilvered right past several steps and bloomed into full-blown infatuation.

* * *

**.2.**

“Lucky!” Darcy closes the door with her hip, looking around Clint’s apartment. She's never been here alone, but Clint’s out on a mission and never let it be said that Darcy Lewis would let a pup go without affection. “...Lucky?”

Fate saves her from having to search the apartment and also from a day without embarrassment. The door knocks into her from behind and sends Darcy sprawling, forearms sliding on the carpet as she lands.

“Oh shit, are you okay?”

 _Ah, yes,_ Darcy thinks, _here we go. Let’s have horribly awkward moments in front of our crush, how could that possibly go wrong?_ She debates staying on the floor until she dies, but then Kate would have to clean it up and that would be even more embarrassing. Plus Lucky is walking all over her back, which: less than comfortable.

“I’m so sorry,” Kate goes on, offering her hand. Darcy takes it, momentarily distracted from her woes by the lean muscles that wind up Kate’s arm and the way she practically lifts Darcy from the ground without apparent effort. _Guh._ “I shouldn’t have let Lucky shove the door open like that. Barton always gets on me for it. Which, hilarious, right? The man regularly lands in a dumpster and he wants to lecture me on Adult Behavior.”

“Thanks,” Darcy manages. She watches Kate unclip Lucky’s leash, watches her stride into the kitchen, watches her pull two cans of soda from the fridge. That’s what finally reboots her brain. “For the hand up, not for the knocking down. Please don’t knock me down again.” She holds up her arms, showing off the rug burn.

“Oooh, ouch,” Kate hisses, face scrunching in sympathy. “You want anything for that? Trust me when I say that you could outfit a clinic from this apartment.”

“Nah.” Darcy tries on a flirty smile. It feels wrong. She takes the cold can and cracks it open as she lets her face slide into neutral. “I’m good.”

“Yeah you are.” Kate taps her can against Darcy’s before popping it open and taking a long drink. Darcy watches her swallow and adds another few qualities to the internal list of _Reasons Kate Bishop Is Amazing_. 

* * *

  **.3.**

“I’m fine! Quit fussing!” Kate’s voice, sharp and tight, echoes into the hall and Darcy pauses with her foot halfway out of the elevator.

“You’re not fine.” Clint’s voice, threaded with worry and punctuated by a low shriek that is unmistakably Kate’s. “Case in point.”

“Well, don’t _touch_ it, asshole!”

Technically Medical is three floors down. Technically this is the R&D section, six floors of fabulous ideas and terrifying explosions. Darcy steps out of the elevator and veers left, heading for Banner’s labs. Kate’s grumbling grows louder as she approaches, culminating with a gasping howl of pain that has Darcy hurrying-- _not_ running and anyone who says different is a liar-- to the door.

“Darce!” Kate spots her instantly, teeth baring in a way that owes more to a grimace than a grin. She’s clutching a dark, damp spot on her abdomen, blood turning the purple black. “Come distract me. Bruce is cruel.”

“Bruce,” Banner says drily as he drops a blood-streaked metal rod into a hazardous waste bin, “is not this kind of doctor. As I keep mentioning.”

“What happened.” Darcy’s voice floats back to her. Everything is floating, in fact, every part of her, on a wash of nauseating fear. _Gut wounds are bad_. But-- Clint looks bored. He wouldn’t look bored if it was bad, right? He would have made her go to Medical, right?

“I’m stupid,” Kate whines. “I wasn’t looking and-- I’m telling you, it’s _not fair_ , this idiot gets tossed off a building and he lands on a cushy pile of garbage bags.”

“It’s a talent,” Clint says. His face is serious but his eyes sparkle with amusement when they meet Darcy’s. “Of course, she _could_ have gone to Dr. Cho--”

“She’s so _judgy_.”

“I think,” Darcy finally manages, setting down her tray of coffees (treats for Jane and her Science Babies, as a reward for remembering to eat and sleep almost like normal humans this week) and digging her phone out of her purse. _Be a few_ , she texts to Jane, barely glancing at the screen. “I think that’s kind of a doctor’s job, actually. Being judgy about injuries. Also fixing the injuries. Bruce, you’re fixing it, right?”

“Awwww.” Some of the clenched-jaw quality slides away from Kate’s smile as Darcy slips between her and Clint, reaching for her hand. “You care.”

* * *

  **.4.**

 _Nope. Nope nope nope._ Something slaps against the cabinet door and slides down it with a wet _slrrp_ . Darcy shivers and pulls her knees closer. She likes to think she’s pretty good with all the crazy stuff that happens-- no, she _knows_ she is, she _tasered a god_ \-- but she’s already watched two people get eaten alive-- or maybe dissolved… or… _something--_ by whatever these things are. She’s proud of herself for getting the restaurant evacuated, but now…

Now she’s curled up in a cabinet in the kitchen, because she just _had_ to make sure everyone was out. It’s like that scene from Jurassic Park, except she’s about 70% sure she’d prefer dinosaur evisceration to dissolving in a gelatinous blob.

She’s not going to stop reliving those screams any time soon.

“Hey, fuck you.” Darcy knows that voice and her head snaps up, cracking against the top of her small hiding place. Something _slorps_ loudly toward her and she can’t figure out whether to bolt or-- no, if she runs she’s going to fall-- no way to get her heels off in here, no space, and now her head is ringing and--

The thing roars. Or maybe it screams. Bright, vicious laughter accompanies the sound. “Yeah, yeah, you wanna eat my girl? How about you don’t, you slobbering pile of jello?” There’s a _twang_ and another scream that bounces off the metal of the kitchen before dying away.

Darcy barely dares to breathe.

“Ew,” Kate says in a different tone. “Well, that’s gross, not gonna touch _that_. Yo, Darcy, Clint says Tony says FRIDAY says you’re in here somewhere?”

“Yeah. Yes, yeah.” Darcy’s voice sounds weak to her own ears despite how loud it echoes in the enclosed space. She forces herself to uncurl, shoving the cabinet door open with her knee. A heartbeat and three thumping steps later and Kate’s wiry arms are reaching for her, hauling her upright. “Yeah,” Darcy repeats, and slumps gratefully into Kate’s arms.

“I got you, babe,” Kate murmurs into her hair. “Thanks for shoving the civilians out of here. These assholes get bigger when they-- uh, _eat_ , I guess. I do _not_ have enough explosive arrows left to deal with that shit.”

“No problem.” Kate is strong and smells like sweat and something acrid but Darcy absolutely does not care. “Thanks for saving me.”

Kate laughs, low and sweet. “No problem.” 

* * *

  **.5.**

 “Look!”

Darcy rolls her eyes, dodging Jane’s second tipsy nudge. “Look at what, Drunky McDrunkerson?”

“Your giiiiiiiirlfriend.” Jane giggles, waving her cup of who-knows-what in the direction of-- oh. _Oh_ . Of Kate. Kate in a skin-tight black dress, hugging her curves and baring her strong arms and legs and _oh it’s backless_.

Darcy snatches Jane’s drink and downs it in one go. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Don’t you lie to me Argentina, you want to kiss her face.”

“I-- ….I don’t know.” Darcy sighs. “Look, the super-soldiers are wearing suits.”

“Ooh. I’m gonna go dance with them.”

“For certain values of ‘dance,’” Darcy mutters as Jane veers away from her. She feels guilty, maybe, a little, for letting Jane go. Drunk Jane is a little gropey and a lot enthusiastically-science-y...but they’re big boys, Darcy tells herself. They can handle it. And now she can beeline for the bar and snag another drink and stare at her-- at--

 _You’re being a creeper_. And god, yes, she is, but whenever she tries to tell Kate-- it’s just-- it’s not good. It’s stuttering and blushing and changing the subject to anything else at all.

Maria Stark Foundation galas go well into the morning. _Everyone_ knows that. And this one, full of superheroes smiling with various levels of honesty to their enthusiasm and posing for pictures with the rich and famous, this one could probably go on for a few days without anyone realizing. Darcy’s wanted to go to one of these since she was eighteen.

She leaves at midnight. 

* * *

  **+1+**

 Darcy is drunk.

It’s not an excuse. It’s not even really a reason, it’s just… a fact. She’s drunk. She’s half a bottle of tequila and three jello shots _drunk_ and she’s standing outside of Kate’s apartment. Just Kate’s, tonight, because Clint isn’t home, because Clint was dancing on the bar with her twenty minutes ago and is probably still there.

Darcy isn’t actually sure how she got here. She’s not, honestly, entirely sure how long she even stands there, in front of the door. Long enough to get cold. Long enough to listen to Kate feed Lucky, to listen to her putter through the kitchen-- has to be the kitchen, the rest of it’s carpeted-- long enough for Kate to open the door.

“Wassup,” she mutters, blinking at Darcy. She’s-- cute. She’s in pajamas, sleepy, adorable, and Darcy’s heart sinks while her mind flails helplessly.

“Um,” Darcy says, the height of eloquence. “Hi.”

“Yeah, hi, come in, it’s freezing.” She steps out of the doorway and Darcy follows without thinking. “I swear they only run the AC in the hallways during the winter.”

“I love you,” Darcy blurts. Kate pauses halfway through closing the door. All Darcy can see is her back, her shoulders, her head-- ducked down, tilted a little to the right. “I-- you-- you’re so cool, Kate, you’re so cool and funny and-- and-- smart, and pretty, and brave, and-- I-- just want you to notice me.”

“Um.” It’s almost too low for Darcy to hear. It’s warm in the apartment-- suddenly too warm, her cheeks burning hot, her mouth sour and dry. Kate closes the door, turns around, her expression...well… something. Not angry, at least. “...what?”

The first three steps are agonizingly slow, but Kate doesn’t move, so the last is quick, a dart in to press her lips against Kate’s. It’s a soft kiss, dry and brief. Darcy pulls away first, terrified, but-- Kate’s eyes are closed, her mouth curved into the hint of a smirk.

“Sorry,” Darcy whispers.

“I’m an idiot,” Kate responds instantly, not opening her eyes. “Told you I was an idiot, didn’t I?”

“...huh? What are you--oh!”

She doesn’t get to finish the thought. She’s too busy kissing Kate back.

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr at [shiniestqueen](http://www.shiniestqueen.tumblr.com) and my askbox is always open.


End file.
